Season
by Daalny
Summary: End of Season 4 A/U.
1. Chapter 1

Doctor Richard Clarkson knew the effects of hypoxia, lightheadedness, numbness and tingling in the extremities. Currently he was being smothered, a pillow was over his face and being pressed down with some force. Richard's sides burned and he was having trouble catching his breath. However, it wasn't from the pillow being smashed in his face it was the fact that he was laughing!

Above Isobel Crawley was trying unsuccessfully to mute and perhaps kill her lover with a down filled pillow. Richard could easily disarm her. All it would take would be one well placed move with his legs and chest to dislodge her and push her off to the side. Nonetheless, he was finding this whole experience enjoyable.

Finally she relented and moved the pillow aside. Richard for his part had stopped laughing but his face still held a wry grin.

"You should have seen your face!" he murmured again.

Isobel was fuming, he had been repeating this phrase for nearly a day. Normally Isobel did not wish to inflict harm on her lover but now she was sorely tempted to use more than just a pillow!

_They had been having lunch together. Richard had snuck off from the hospital to meet her at Crawley House. She had made them soup and they were eating together heartily. When lunch was done Richard went over to sit next to her on the settee. His hands caressed her cheeks and she sighed in the knowledge that he would kiss her. When his lips met hers the sigh turned to a contented moan and both got lost in the kisses they shared. They had become lovers a month after Matthew had died. During the first month he had practically stayed by her side. This companionship ignited in them both a deep love and respect. One night Isobel had begged him to stay not out of loneliness but out of love. They shared a bed that night, learning to be comfortable with each others presence. Slowly each of them asked more from one another until both were made whole in each other. Richard pulled away when a large shadow passed by the window. He pulled away and went to see what had caught his attention._

_"I think you have a visitor" He declared as he craned his head to get a better view._

_"Nonsense, the only visitor is you and you don't really count!" Isobel stated as she smoothed back her hair._

_Both heard the bell and Isobel's eyes went wide. She wasn't ashamed of Richard but with everything that had happened the Crawley Family did not need another scandal. Quickly he moved his tray of soup to her desk. Both could hear Lucy bringing in the visitor. _

_"Hide!" Isobel hissed to him._

_"Where am I supposed to go?" Richard hissed back, for there was only one entrance and exit to the drawing room. Thinking fast he stood by the door so when it would be opened hopefully it would shield him. Lucy opened the door and Isobel sprang into place. The visitor was Lord Merton._

_Isobel stood in the middle keeping Lord Merton from entering and seeing Richard. However, she couldn't be seen as being impolite so she hastily gestured to her own tray. "I'm having soup." She said lamely. "Care for some?" She blurted._

_Richard's sides were burning from holding in the urge to laugh. She looked so ridiculous gesturing to the tray. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot almost as if she were dancing and Richard bit his cheek. If he wasn't careful Lord Merton was going to know he was here. _

_Richard's merriment died when Lord Merton asked her if she was going to Rose's Ball. She told him no and while the answer was the one he wanted he felt as though it was wrong._

"I think you should go" Richard said running a hand down her arm.

Isobel was confused, "Go where this is my bed!"

He snorted, "No, I mean you should go to London. Go to the ball. Have some fun."

Isobel moved the pillow off of his chest so she could occupy its space instead. "I won't have fun, I can't have fun not without you."

Richard welcomed her weight on him and caressed her back, their early skirmish with the pillow completely forgotten. "You should go, you need to go...it's family."

"You'll know that he'll be there." She mumbled.

Richard smiled and kissed her forehead, "I know that, I also know that you love me. Besides if he tries anything I know you'll smack him with your handbag or something."

"What if I don't want to?" She asked weakly.

Richard sighed this was one chasm that Isobel had trouble navigating. The divide between them of their station in life. Her being the mother to the late heir and the grandmother to the future heir to the Earl of Grantham. Him being a country Doctor. "Will you go if that's what I want?"

She raised herself up so she could look at him and nodded in the affirmative. "What do I tell him?"

Richard swept a fallen lock of hair out of her eyes, "Tell him you reconsidered. Tell him...you think tradition can be a good thing. You're bright I'm sure you can come up with something."

It was her turn to sigh and at this he knew he had won, "All right" she acquiesced.

"Super" Richard said purposefully elongating the first half of the word. Earning him another pillow to the face.

The Dowager Countess was pleased the Isobel had decided to go yet somewhat annoyed that she would have to be sharing her car and then the train! Beside her Isobel seemed to be glowing. What she didn't know was Dr. Clarkson was leaning against a tree in the village square waving to Isobel as she got into the car. Isobel could see him and smiled as widely as she could hoping he could see it. Her hand gripped the handles of her handbag. It was a larger and more sturdier one than she normally carried and she smiled at the reason why.

As the chauffeur pulled away isobel was glad. She wanted to go to London if only for the fact that she could then return to her lover.


	2. Chapter 2

In London Isobel was beginning to rethink her decision. While she had had a somewhat luxurious upbringing as a Nurse she was used to cramped and shared quarters. However the one thing she couldn't bear was whinging! Currently her family were perfecting the performance art! The house was still fairly large, while it wasn't Downton Abbey it was still ample, yet everyone was bickering over space. So much so that Isobel decided to leave the house and go for a walk. She engaged in window shopping as it had been deemed however, everything she looked at reminded her of Richard. She went from shop and tried determinably not to think of Richard which made her miss him more. Things got worse as she decided to abandon window shopping and just walk. Each gentlemen that she saw in the distance had her thinking that perhaps that it was Richard and he had somehow escaped Downton to be with her. She stopped and shook her head, she knew all too well the responsibilities that he had. She welcomed the pang of loneliness she felt for him for it only sharpened her desire to get back to him.

She turned around and made her way back to her temporary dwelling. Upon her return she saw why she had left! People seemed to streaming in and out, a tidal swell of bodies and carried by the slight breeze and open windows the sound of screeching and wailing from the Crawley women. Isobel rolled her eyes a habit she had picked up from Richard, should she turn back around?

"Mrs. Crawley?" A voice asked.

She whirled towards the voice and saw the tall Lord Merton. She was surprised to see him and the surprise must have been evident for he stammered, "I, I was hoping I might catch you."

"Well it seems luck is on your side" Isobel said politely.

Merton gestured to the flow of bodies, "Chaotic"

"Oh, yes! I went for a walk to escape only to come back and find it hasn't even ended." Isobel said with a frustrated wave.

"I was going to go to a nearby restaurant for some tea, would you care to join me?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no but she remembered Richard's words. She would be loath to go back inside with the bickering Crawley girls, tea sounded like heaven right about now and there was no reason why she and Lord Merton couldn't be friends.

The restaurant Lord Merton chose was fairly upscale but then again he was a Lord and this was London. There was more glass in one of the chandeliers dangling above their table than on all of the shelves in the Grantham Arms. It was surprisingly easy to talk with Lord Merton they chatted easily over tea. Merton was careful to avoid the topic of his children not wanting to repeat his earlier blunder. They spoke of politics of all things and Isobel found the time passing pleasantly. So much time passed that they decided to order dinner. As Isobel looked at the menu she knew exactly what she wanted. When the waiter came back she confidently ordered Onion Soup.

In Downton Doctor Clarkson was signing off his last chart. It was late afternoon and with no other patients he could leave early. He gathered his things and made his way back to his cottage.

The weather was pleasant and he found himself opening the curtains to let the setting sun bathe his cottage in its light. His dinner was simple a makeshift ploughman's, he probably could have gotten a decent meal at the pub but he felt like staying in. After he had eaten he found himself drifting from room to room. In the kitchen he could see in his mind's eye Isobel and himself washing dishes. In the small sitting room he could picture them by the fire when it was cold. He finally padded to the bedroom and he leaned against the doorframe thinking of the last time they were together.

The night before she had left for London she had stayed with him here. No pillows had been squashed into this face that time!

_Her kisses and touches seemed forlorn and he wondered for a second if he had hurt her. When her grip increased and she dug her nails into his shoulder he realized that she was holding back. Their first encounter she had been a tad shy but so had he. At their age they had been reserved in shedding clothes. With time they had become uninhibited. Isobel had learned that Richard was extremely vocal in bed something Reginald had never been. Richard would moan, snarl, grunt, sigh and even give voice to what he was feeling! Isobel for the most part was quiet save for the odd sigh. However, Richard had discovered that she was physical. One more than once occasion he had to wear a higher collared shirt for she had sunk her teeth into his neck and shoulder. His back had been decorated by her nails and his hair had been gathered into her fists. All of these things he welcomed. However, she wasn't doing them tonight._

_"Let go" He rasped as he circled his hips a move that never failed to drive her mad._

_"Not yet, I want…" her sentence trailed off as his movement caused her to moan in pleasure and her eyes fall shut._

_Richard understood, she wanted to have this encounter last. Since they had become lovers they really spent more than a day apart. Her trip to London would be longest that they would be apart. He had to fight to stay in the moment as well, her moans had him wanting to piston into her willing body and fly apart. _

_His hand trailed down her thigh to anchor under her knee and pull her leg higher onto his hip. The new angle had Isobel's eyes snapping open. Her hands found purchase in his hair and pulled his head down closer to her. Before her lips claimed his he whispered, "There's my Isobel!"_

_She kissed his lips frantically, her grip had tightened on his hair and Richard was losing himself in the feel of her body. Her hand left his hair and her hands gripped his arms he pulled her knee up half an inch more. Her nails bit into his flesh and he jammed his mouth over hers to swallow her cries._

The doorjamb was digging into his shoulder and he welcomed the ache. God, how he missed her!


	3. Chapter 3

Neither slept well that night. Isobel's room was small and the roof was slanted at an angle yet it was private. She didn't have to share with anyone. There was a tiny window at the top of the wall almost where it met the ceiling. It was only when she was by the door that she could look out the window. The head of the bed was directly below it. She watched the different shadows and shapes that were created by the small window. The bed wasn't uncomfortable, the room wasn't too hot, she just missed Richard. She never really appreciated the amount of his presence in her life. On the nights that they slept in different beds they had still spent the day together.

As she traced patterns on the top of the blanket with a fingernail she imagined what their conversations would have been today. Or how he would come through the back gate in the garden during lunch time to see her. She missed her garden too! It had only been in the recent months that she had found an affinity for gardening. Her mother had bullied her into flowers and gardening when she was younger. As a child Isobel could name all the parts of a flower from pistol to stamen yet she had no enjoyment in planting and weeding. After all that had happened in her life from Reginald, Downton, Matthew and now. She had found a meditative quality in troweling dirt and planting bulbs. Watching the first tiny shoots emerge from the earth nearly had her in tears. Again it was due to Richard. After Matthew had been killed he had gently parroted her own advice back to her, "You need to find something to do."

Nursing was too raw for her in the first few months, being amongst the sick and dying was a reminder of Matthew. However, it was the patients that got better that Isobel found most cruel to deal with. She watched as patients entered the hospital broken and bleeding only to be healed from wounds and cured from sickness! It drove home the point that her son would never be healed that his body would be forever broken lying in a gilded coffin! Death was permanent.

_On a whim she had gone outside and into the garden. While the house was directly behind her it was if she were in a vast desert with no landmarks. She had no clue as to what she was doing. Flowers? Those were bought in a shop and came wrapped in paper! She was wearing an old nursing apron to cover her clothes, she knew the names of tools but not what they were specifically for. A glance at the rose bushes had her thinking that perhaps they needed to be pruned? In the end she spent too long in the sun. Richard had come to the that night and found her slightly dehydrated, sunburnt and nursing blistered and cut hands. _

_Her hands and forearms were cut from the thorns from the roses. Her right hand had blister in the center of her palm. Salve was applied to the worst of the cuts, while the blister was kept clean. Finally he had lovingly dabbed aloe on her cheeks and nose in an attempt to soothe the burn inflicted by the sun. The next day she had a corking headache a result from her dehydration and sunburn. He stopped by Crawley House at intervals making sure she drank enough water. He had thought that would be an end to her gardening adventure but she had expressed her desire to go back out. Isobel Crawley was not going to be beaten by a rose bush!_

_He had bought her a gardening hat and gloves, that had been the catalyst for their blossoming relationship. On his next half day he came over to help. Rolling up his sleeves and employing a spade to loosen the soil in northeastern corner he worked efficiently. Isobel had been weeding and in frustration threw the clump of green and dirt over her shoulder instead of in the small basket._

_She had no clue she had hit him until a something struck her shoulder, it was a clod of dirt. She had whirled around to see Richard smirking underneath a straw hat, the one he wore the cricket match. Standing she reached for the basket and strode over to him before dumping the basket over his head. Weeds tumbled down the front and inside of his shirt. He merely sighed before throwing down his spade, his hands were filthy. He grasped her shoulders and ran his hands down her arms. The move was intimate, erotic and also smeared dirt all over her blouse. At this Isobel laughed, truly laughed the first time she had felt genuinely happy since George had been born. She had leaned into his personal space and kissed his lips. Their hats collided the brim of hers folding against his providing a barrier to prying eyes. He kissed her back gently, letting her know with the pressure of his lips that her desire was returned. When she pulled away Richard could honestly say that she hadn't ever looked more beautiful. Others might have said she looked like a disintegrating Vampire with her face peeling beneath a wide brimmed hat and her clothes smeared with dirt. However, it was the fact that she had laughed with him, been comfortable enough to chuck dirt at him and brave enough to kiss him that had him loving her more intensely._

_Richard then shook out the weeds from his shirt and went back to work. Isobel gathered up her basket and also went back to her plot in the garden. After that weeding wasn't as bad a task as she thought._

Still tracing patterns Isobel wondered if perhaps she could procure a sundial whilst in London? This time thinking of Richard along with the garden had her falling asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Isobel did indeed find a sundial for her garden she and Lord Merton had scoured the shops. The first nursery they visited was too expensive and didn't have what Isobel was looking for. When Merton had asked he suggested they try the small antique shops. It turns out he knew his antiques and he was right. It was on their third shop where Isobel found not only a stone sundial but also some small stone figurines. She had been sorely tempted to purchase a larger figure but decided the three smaller ones would accent the sundial better. The shop owner offered to have them delivered to which Isobel agreed she couldn't imagine lugging them through London! In gratitude to Lord Merton Isobel then offered tea, instead of a fine restaurant they went to small teahouse. While their interests differed they still found common ground to meet at. As she nibbled on a blueberry scone she asked Lord Merton about how he had come to know antiquities. Tomorrow would be Rose's Ball and then she could go home she couldn't wait.

Richard hadn't slept thoughts of Isobel and his lonely bed had kept him awake in the end he had gone back to the hospital. The night staff were surprised to see him. For the past few months he had only come back to the hospital if he were needed. The staff saw this and gave him a wide berth. The hospital always had something to do and he was glad of this fact. Come the morning he was tired yet completed his shift. He stitched up a wound and diagnosed mumps in a child all while Isobel was out with Lord Merton.

Around four in the afternoon he found himself yawning. His nurses formed a union and banished him to his cottage. He went willingly into exile, his curtains of his cottage were still open and his home was bathed in a warm orange glow. He shed his clothes on his way to bed, wadding them up in his hand and tossing them into the corner. With the warmer weather he had taken to wearing his wrist watch so there was no worry about damaging his pocket watch. Clad in his watch and shorts he got into bed, not caring to draw the curtains. His head hit the pillow and he fell asleep.

Everyone staying at the house in London were out. The theatre for the Levinson's and some of the Crawley's even some of the servants were out. Isobel had stayed behind, she didn't want to go to the theatre and she sure didn't want to play cards. The telephone seemed to be singing a siren's song. Begging her to pick it up, she walked by the half moon table three times before she snagged the device. She calmly asked the operator to put her through. The connections were made, now she just had to wait.

Richard heard the ringing in his cottage. Lord Grantham had installed a telephone installed during the War. At that time the device had been useful as of this moment it was an annoyance. Blearily he rose from the bed clad in only his shorts as he padded towards the phone

"'ello" he murmured his voice thick with sleep.

On the other end Isobel sighed, just hearing his voice made her feel warm. Her head turned towards a clock, had he been sleeping?

"I hope I didn't wake you" She said quietly.

The fog quickly left his brain, "Isobel is that you!" he rasped in awe.

He could hear her giggle through the phone, "Yes it's me. I had to hear your voice."

Richard felt as if he had had a strong cup of coffee. Just hearing her voice knowing that she had been thinking of him!

"How is London?" He asked desperate to know.

"I bought a sundial today, for the garden and some figurines." She told him with an excited voice.

"Did you, describe them to me." He rasped.

She began telling him about the sundial and her hesitation about the figurines. Oh how Merton he had escorted her and how he was turning out to be a good friend and she hadn't smacked him yet. She still wanted to know if she had woken him, "Did I wake you?"

He knew he couldn't lie to her, "Yes, you see I didn't sleep at all last night."

"Why? Was there a call out?" She asked her mind rapidly putting together scenarios.

He smirked, "No, I was thinking of you."

Isobel blushed, "What were you thinking?"

Richard shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "I came home and stood in the doorway looking at the bed thinking of the last time you and I were in it." He sighed, "It made me miss you so I went back to the hospital and worked."

Isobel laughed but it wasn't a pleasant sort of laugh, "I miss you too! I can just imagine you in your blue striped pajamas talking to me."

Richard looked down at his bare chest and laughed.

"What?" Isobel demanded.

"When I came home I didn't bother with pajamas. Just tossed my suit in the corner and went to bed."

Isobel turned towards the wall her mind filling with images and hissed, "So you have nothing on?"

He laughed again, "I have on my watch...and my shorts."

She groaned, "I want to come home!"

"What would you do?" He asked richly.

Her cheeks were burning yet he deserved an answer, "I would touch you. I would place my palms on your chest and feel your heart. I would kiss you."

"Where? Where would you kiss me?" Was his rasp.

"lips, neck, body...wherever I could reach." She answered.

Richard had never engaged in anything like this! His telephone conversations were curt and perfunctory. "I would kiss you too. I love the sound of your sighs. I want to feel your legs around me! God, Isobel I want you now!"

"I want you too! Soon my love, I'll be home soon!"

"I love you." he declared.

"I love you too!" She acknowledged before they both disconnected from the phone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Isobel POV**

My clothes seem foreign to me, the fancy gown and the long gloves. I laid them out on the bed to look at them and I have to remind myself that they are indeed mine. Self-consciously I pat my hair one of the hairdressing shops had a cancellation and I was able to have the vacancy. I don't know why but I find it oddly relaxing to have someone fiddle with my hair. I wish Richard were here to see the result of all this preening. I can feel myself smiling at the thought of him. Last night's telephone conversation was one of the most memorable I have ever had.

I love him and oh how I miss him. I'm dreading this ball but I'm happy to go since it will mark the end of this trip to London and I can go home.

Home to Richard.

I carefully lift up the dress and get dressed.

Cousin Violet is talking my ear off about Lord Merton. I find myself twisting my hands in my lap.

"Mrs. Crawley?"

I recognize the voice without having to turn around, it's Lord Merton.

"Care to dance?" He asks me and I can practically hear the smug grin creep onto Cousin Violet's face.

I stand up and let him lead me onto the dance floor.

"I hope you had a good day?" I ask as we move about the couples.

We dodge a couple, "Yes, it was quiet. How about you?"

"Oh, I kept busy" I murmur so far no one has said anything about my hair. I don't know whether to laugh or cry over that one.

"There's another shop that I think you might enjoy." He tells me.

"Lord Merton" I begin.

"Peter, my name is Peter." He informs me, I glance up at him and see that is face is a mixture of hope and anxiousness. On impulse I look back to Cousin Violet. Did she orchestrate this? While her bout with bronchitis didn't make us close friends it did help close the divide somewhat. I truly hope that what I am about to do will be well received.

"If I am to call you Peter you must call me Isobel. Friends do call each other by name don't they?" I deliver genuinely.

His eyes don't narrow or go wide. Instead he sighs through his nose and smiles. "Yes, friends do call each other by their given names."

I ask him to tell me about the shop and he seems to relax. I don't want him hurt, he has been nothing but kind to me but I don't want him to pursue me romantically.

"Do you have plans for your return to Yorkshire?" He asks me.

I do have plans for my return, plans that can't mention in public. Plans that involve Richard, myself and a bed. However, I can tell Peter about my garden. I tell him of where I envision the stone figurines and the sundial. Of what I hope to plant next and to have it grow! Soon our dance is over and I find myself back beside Cousin Violet.

"Nice dance?" She asks me knowingly.

I smile in reflection, "Actually yes, while I had reservations about attending this I'm glad Richard talked me into it."

Her nostrils flare at my words and I'm sure she knows damn well that I am referring to Richard Clarkson and not Sir Richard Carlisle. I'm through with hiding, I think back to how I had Richard scurry behind the door when Lord Merton came by. I should have just had him stay in his chair. A silent declaration that I am not available, I am most gladly taken.

I stay just long enough to fulfill my duty to the family before I leave. My room with the slanted roof welcomes me. I don't bother to undo my hair, I want Richard to see it. I didn't purchase much in London so it is easier for me to get to the train station. The porters load my luggage and I climb into the first class car. The rest of family will be traveling on later but I am eager to leave. The train is relatively empty and I use the time to think. I find myself twirling my wedding band something I haven't done in years. This ring was a symbol of Reginald's love for me and long after he died I wore it to keep him close to me and other men away. Richard broke through that yet I haven't honored him. That is going to change as well, it takes a few good tugs but the ring is off and I carefully wrap it in my handkerchief before stowing it my handbag.

The station at Downton is relatively quiet, I have a moment of panic when I realize that I have no car to take my things home. I roll my eyes at my oversight.

"Love your hair."

I whirl at the voice, he is there. His suit is simple, not the expensive fabric worn by those at the ball last night. He is a doctor in an occupation not suited for a gentleman. He is perfect. I stride over to him and wrap my arms around him. He returns the embrace and I feel so many emotions. He merely kisses my cheek and helps me with my luggage.

In the car I can't stop staring at him. I've been gone less than a week and I feel as though I've been gone for a month. I want to touch him, explore his body to make sure it is as I remember. We go to Crawley House, he carries in my luggage and I feel a sense of relief that I am back in Downton.

"How did you know what train i would be on?" I say amazed that I don't stammer.

"I just knew" he answers and I feel myself grow warm at his words.

"Can you stay?" I ask.

His eyes blaze and he nods. Wordlessly we make our way to the bedroom. The sheer curtains are allowing the light in yet providing enough of a barrier that no one could see us. My hands divest him of his clothes and his body is just as I remember it. He carefully works the clasps and hooks of my dress and I snarl and begin to tear it away. I lay my hands flat on his stomach before moving them up his chest. His head tilts down to watch and he sucks in a breath. One of his hands moves to capture my left one. No doubt he has seen that I have removed my wedding band. Blue eyes met mine and I merely nod, letting him know that yes I will publicly run my colors along side his. For he told me so long ago that we sink or swim together!

His lips crash into mine and hold him to me. His body is warm against mine and the sunlit room is a cheerful backdrop. There are no lamps to be dimmed or candles to be snuffed. Just the two of us on a warm day. The blankets on the bed are pushed down and we come together on the sheet covered mattress. The fabric is cool against my back while he is warm against my front. His weight is welcome and I have missed it! The sounds of his breathing coupled with mine, the sight of him above me, the feel of him inside. I welcome it all!

Two weeks later we are back in the garden. I have placed the two figurines beside the foxgloves that I had managed to grow. On the north side of the garden Richard has dug a hole so we can maneuver a stone slab into place so the sundial can have a level surface on which to rest. Before the slab is moved I toss my wedding band into the earth.

My finger hasn't been bare for long. The day after I returned to Downton Richard bought another one for me. We stood here in the garden exchanging our own vows, he sealed his with a ring and I sealed mine with a kiss.

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to finish, my kids just finished their spring break!**


End file.
